


(ABANDONED)

by beckly



Category: Homestuck
Genre: (be mindful of the warnings!, Drug Abuse, Eventual Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Sadstuck, Self Harm, drug overdose
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-02 03:39:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2798171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beckly/pseuds/beckly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(UNDER NEW NAME:) House of cards</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Late shift

It wasn’t a particularly busy night. The incredibly stiff plastic chairs in the waiting room would usually be half packed with all sorts of faces, may they be expressing disdain, concern, or disinterest. Within the first 4 hours you could easily nail all three of those, and you’re a bit unsure whether you can call that an accomplishment or a warning sign. Nonetheless, you really can’t do jackshit about it, you have a stable job at the very least, you’re paid to sit through this shit. If there was no cash on the table my ass would already be straight out the door, no fucking thanks! You’re no chivalrous bastard of the 21st century, how else are you supposed to be keeping yourself off the street?

Internal monologue aside, you takes note that the room is actually completely empty, to the point where the air is thick with the ominous presence that comes with it. It’s unnerving, but you can’t really do anything about it. You wish you could actually do something about it, it’s kinda creeping you out. It’s perfectly set up for some sort of disaster to just happen, hell, it’s begging for some sort of panic to crash through those closed doors any minute now.

You tense yourself for the next five minutes, looking at the door, and then quickly decide this entire thing was plain ridiculous. With boredom now settling in, you hoist your crossed legs up and over onto the desk before, and you lean back dangerously far. Teetering on two legs, which makes some unreassuring noises, and following that you overestimate your balance and the ground beneath you drops.

You expected a tragic crash, resulting in blood matted hair and a couple of stitches, but you realize no sort of sensation has registered.

_are you dead?_

You open your eyes, squeezed shut for impact, but you realize someone has a good grip on you.

“Honestly Dave, your luck is running dry.” The blonde over him spoke, holding him up by where arm meets torso. You only scowl.

“Don’t need to tell me twice Rose,” You protest her grip, wriggling in place, “Also I think pursuing in the thought of putting me down would be great, thanks.”

She grinned, letting the Strider fall to the group with a thud. A surprised and garbled mix of “what the fuck” and “ow” comes together.

“I think you bruised my ass.” He groaned, using the table near him as leverage to get back on his feet.

“Dave, you don’t have an ass, so to speak.”

“Rose Lalonde, once again leaving deep psychological wounds on my ego,” He mocks offense, but it mostly comes out as a scoff, “I ought to buy you a real, gold trophy with your name etched in it.” Rose raises a brow, but she’s amused, so you continue by sliding by her slide, clapping a hand over her shoulder. “I can see it now, Rose Lalonde, the biggest asshole in the universe.”

“The place rightfully goes to you, I wouldn’t dare claim what’s not mine.” That simper of hers is getting too wide for her own good, and you can’t help but throw your hands up in mock defeat.

“Fine, you win,” You sigh out, glancing back down to meet her gaze “what you came down here for anyways?

“I’m simply checking on my brother.” Another frown sneaks onto your face.

“I’m a grown ass man.”

“If I wasn’t here your head would’ve been split into two.”

“...Touche.”

 

_____

 

Time has passed, the clock drones on and the night shift stumbles towards it’s end. Just one more hour for you, because apparentally the other guy is late and he lives 10000 fucking miles away from this medical establishment, and decided to snag a job here. (you’re not sure whether to implement a bit of pity from your side or just dish out the ol’ “tough luck” charade) Either way, you aren’t getting home any faster, so you might as well sit your ass down and actually maybe do some work.

An occasional, impatient glance at the clock, and to the door, no sign of the guy anywhere. It’s a bit more active with people with their usual medical issues coming in for a check up, or some testing, whatever it may be, you’ve grown familiar to some of the faces. Nepeta Leijon, a girl who has been coming in with the same sprained wrist for like, 2 months now, sweet but a little concerned for her (she tells you that she’s a boxer and really wants the sprain to heal up quickly). Karkat Vantas, an asshole with a major acne problem, you’ve become chat buddies since he’s here so often. Tavros and Rufioh Nitram, a pair of humble brothers, always offering a greeting while the eldest wheels his younger sibling around the area.

The nearing, urgent sound of siren calls you back to focus, and you snap your head towards the ER entrance, and so do several others. There’s a bit of a commotion outside, panic probably. 

“He’s not breathing-” One paramedic shouts, you could feel how pallid their face must be just through voice alone.

“Stay calm, were almost inside.” Another Soothes, and the door busts open, startling the rest of the people nearby. 

“Keep his head turned to the side so he doesn’t choke on his vomit!”

Your eyes dart between the paramedics and the body on the gurney, and the moment you laid your eyes on their face, you felt your blood run cold.

You just plead it’s not him.

_That can’t be him, it couldn’t be._

“Get some Naloxone into an IV!”

_You prays that’s not him, You fuckin pray-_

“We’ve got an ID on him, his name is John Egbert!”

Your fears are confirmed.

And your heart drops.

You’ve found the boy who you knew and loved since 3rd grade, who disappeared 5 years ago with no word, lips and face as blue as their eyes, convulsing, closer to death than he ever imagined.

_“John.”_


	2. Well then.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So that was John.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no tw's up ahead, carry on! my chapters tend to be dialouge heavy, sorry if you don't particularly like those ^_^' im sure ill be able to thin those out in the future

You were still shaky, eyes glued to the ground, hands clasped together hard enough that your knuckles were turning white. You still had sweat streaking down the side of your face, and your face was much paler than it was before. You were holding your breath the entire time, and you still are.

________

_“Strider step back!” The paramedic barked, abandoning the side of the gurney to shove back the blonde._

_“No, I know him, let me see him-”_

_“So do I, but we have a job to do. Calm down-”_

_“Don’t tell me to calm down!” Your voice is gradually getting louder, and even the woman is a bit startled. Her surprise slowly mirrors to your anger, and you swear you heard her growl._

_“Dave,” She’s mad, very mad, “I know you’re upset-”_

_“If you know I am, let me through!”_

_She’s outright trembling and you can see her fists are too, and you wish you’ve kept your smartass mouth shut._

_“...Sorry Jade."_

_All you receive next is a slap, and she’s down the hall._

_The entire room is speechless, just as you are. You retreat to the break room, so maybe you can clear your thoughts._

________

 

So that was John.

It’s been so long, hell, 5 years you’ve haven’t seen him and you meet him the last way you’d want to.

This meeting could be your last.

Tears well up, and a ‘goddamnit’ seethes out. Get it together, don’t think about it right now, you probably should be praying that he doesn’t end up in a grave now. Negative thinking gets the better of you, and the thought of this being the last possible time you see him alive would be rolling down a hospital hallway, hours, maybe minutes away from being pronounced dead. A modern nightmare for anyone, and if it comes true, it’s going to stick to you for years.

Years of wishing you’ve could’ve done something.

His disappearance could’ve been reported, it’s a bit strange that his dad didn’t do that in the first place. Speaking of which, after he disappeared, so did he. It’s a bit of a long stretch to jump to conclusions about anything, it could mean nothing, but you’re positive this could clue in on some answers to what happened to either of them.

While you were busy playing detective, a door creaks shut before you. You look up, and it’s Rose. 

“I overheard what happened.” You avert your eyes in shame, fiddling with your nametag.

“Sorry.”

“You shouldn’t be saying sorry to me.” You still haven’t looked at her yet. 

“I will once this is over with.” Your thoughts bleed back to John, and you feel your stomach churn at the thought of it.

“That aside, I have some news for you.”

“Hit me with it.” She sits down beside you, and she clears her throat.

“It was a drug overdose.” Some confusion, hinted with some distress, perks up, and you finally turn to face her.

“So, did he mean to do it or was it an accident?” You hope for the latter.

“We aren’t sure, we’ll have to ask when he wakes up.” 

You blink.

“Wait, he’s going to be ok?” A smile threatens to show, but you can’t get your hopes too high.

“They’ve stabilized his vitals, and done all the procedures, all we can do now is wait.”

“So he’s going to be ok…?” She pauses, and you frown.

“They’re going to keep a close eye on him, but they say he’s going to be ok.”

“He didn’t look ok.” It’s her turn to frown.

“Look, I can’t predict the future,” The edge in her voice leaves you taken aback, and the next snide remark in your mind drifts off, “if I could, I wouldn’t hesitate to tell you. For now, we need to wait.”

“For how long we need to wait?” 

“Until he wakes up, even then, I can’t guarantee anything,” She’s back on her feet, “For now, go home, your shift was over two hours ago.”

“I want to be here when he wakes up.” You croak. She gives you a concerned look, almost sympathetic.

“We can’t be sure if he will wake up anytime soon…” She cuts herself off there and then, and you knew what she was going to add. You silently thank her for not bringing up the possibility, “Look, go rest up, you haven’t slept properly recently, and maybe now is a good time.”

“Alright.” You don’t find any good with arguing with her now, and she passes off a smile with your reply. You flash a smile back, but by then she’s then out the door, leaving you alone again.

Your hands go up to either side of your head, and you knead your temples with an exasperated groan.

“Now is a good time, my ass.” You mock, soon on your feet, and you do recall, with your shift over, you don't have anything to do. Without a word to your co-workers, you gather your stuff and head home.

While on the way back to your flat, all you can think about is John, and the mystery tucked away behind him. All you want is him to be ok, but even then, no one can promise you anything


	3. Good night!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This probably was your most vivid memory yet.
> 
> And the most painful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a bit of a flashback/dream

“Dave, honestly, you’re such a douche!” The boy yelped from the bathroom, and you contain a snicker as you hear the desperate twangs of the rubber bands being ripped off and thrown across the tile floor. 

“Hey that’s what you get for sleeping in History.” You remark, and his beet red face pops out of the door. His hair appears much longer now, going down to his shoulders, and one hell of a mess in the meanwhile.

“It doesn’t mean you should braid it without my permission! Goddamnit i’ll be trying to get knots out of my hair for weeks…” John whines, finally steps out with a pouty scowl gracing his lips. He joins your side, and you take the moment to over look his hair. The laugh you’ve been holding back for the last few minutes just spills out the second you see one of your last creations sticking out like a sore thumb.

“What?!”

“You missed-” snrk, “A spot.” And your laughter just gets louder as the moment his hand swing back behind his head, his face lighting up redder than a stop sign.

“DAVE!” You’re absolutely in tears now, John rushing back into the bathroom in panic with either of his hands wrapped your the biggest braid of all. Your chest heaving, and some more than obvious curses and grumbles coming from the restroom, you decide to drop by to see on his progress. Stopping dead in your tracks, you catch the priceless scene of the poor Egbert with his hands mangled up in rubber bands and his own hair. You felt your eyes already rolling behind your shades when the guy turns at you with a look of complete hatred and a hint of helplessness.

“Did you really get stuck.”

“Yes,” He admits, “Now shut up and help me.” 

“Now Egbert, where are your manners.”

“Ugh, fine, Please shut up and help me.”

“That isn’t a grade A response-”

“Dave!” He snaps, and you defensively flick your wrists up.

“Fine, turn around, and stop being so tense.” You grumble, walking up behind the fidgety brunette, and you weave your fingers with his. He’s still wriggling around, pure obscenities spitting out from his side, which gradually get louder the harder and harder you pull. He directly elbows you in the face, scolds you for being “too harsh” and the next few minutes you tread lightly. You’d make a comment about how flustered he is right now, but you’d prefer to leave with minimal damage. 

With the next few minutes being idle chat and some sincere struggling, with one event happening(some dude walked in, stared for a moment and promptly left), the rubber band finally rips and flops to the floor..

“My scalp feels like it’s about to fall off.” John groans, carding his fingers through the crime scene itself.

“I guess _we’ve_ learned our lesson.” You titter, and he punches you right in the shoulder.

“I hate you.”

“Love you too.” You extend your hand out.

And to your surprise he takes it.

“Yeah, yeah,” He squeezes your hand, and the tips of your ears turn red, “Let’s ditch.”

 

______

 

“This is so illegal.” You mutter, making a sour face.

Off site of the school’s district, a bit closer to the local stores and businesses, the two of you are still hand in hand. Keeping a good pace around the block, you’re still a bit uncertain whether this may have been a good idea.

“Come on, we practically look like college students, and they ditch classes all the time!”

“Well, you’re a bit…”

“Speak another word and you’re going to be dunked into the trash can.”

“... _short._ ” You barely whisper out, already you can see the dangerous gleam in his eyes, and you know it’s time to run. You’re already off to a head start down the pavement, and John is trailing close behind.

Maybe this will be fun after all.

 

______

 

The rest of the day complies a bunch of silliness, whether it may be how you got a faceful of ice cream, or how john ended up in the creek down deep in the forest. The sun dip-dyes the trees right on queue, as you both whittled down the last of your energy. You’ve both resorted to sitting on the sidewalk, not too far from John’s residence.

“Man, I’m beat.” John sighs, his voice low and wispy, but satisfied in tone.

“Same.” 

“My head still hurts from you tugging on my hair.” You have an arsenal of retorts already stashed in the back of your mind for this exact phrase, but not one steps up, and instead you decide on something else. You wrap one arm around his shoulder, and bring the both of you side to side. He shoots you a particularly puzzled look, but then you comb your fingers through the hair you’ve been rough on today. 

“Better?” You wish it was a bit lighter right now cause you swear you would see a faint blush dust his features.

“Yeah.” He grins a bit, snuggling up to you, and you swear you’re probably a lot redder than he is. Right now, this is fine, perfect actually. For the next for minutes, all you do is soak in the warmth of him, his gentle breathing, his rowdy curls barely managing past your fingertips. Time slowed down, even for a moment, for the orange beams of light scattering through the trees to dim, the wind whistling through the leaves, and the brave chill of late autumn, it felt blissful. 

But even the best times come to an end.

“It’s really late, huh?” The boy in your embrace perks up, and he flicks his wrist up.

“Woah, time really does fly by.” He’s quick to stand up, nearly knocking you over. Though before you make contact with the asphalt, his hand manages itself on your wrist, and hoists you back up. You’re hovering over him, and you’re feeling a bit cheeky now. 

“So…?” You coo, and he turns to lift a brow at you.

“So?”

“Where’s my goodnight kiss?” All he does is give you a funny look, and you worry that you overstepped his boundaries. With a quick wit, all you do is chortle a bit, release his hand, and wave it in dismissal, “You know I’m joking.” You put, exaggerating the ‘pssh’ you strategically put after that. Before you can further try to persuade you were simply putting out a light joke, your shades clack with his glasses, and _oh my god he’s actually kissing you._

It was a short, chaste kiss, but that was all it took to paint you red from head to toe, and to keep you glued into place. You were in love struck shock, and all John did was plant a final peck to the cheek (to add fuel to the fire, holy cow) before he headed off in his own direction.

“Good night!” He chirps, and before you can muster a response, you jolt awake.

 

 

_______

 

You’ve just jolted awake.

Your back was slick with sweat, you’re heaving breaths, and you’re now wide awake. Sitting up, clutching to the front of your tee, you turn your attention to the alarm clock seated on the bedstand.

_7 PM._

Muttering a “goddamnit”, you force yourself onto your feet, and shuffle towards the bathroom, a bit clumsily if you may. That being said, you run into the door. For the moment you just stand there, head against the cold wood, mulling over your thoughts. This probably was your most vivid memory yet.

And the most painful.

You roll yourself on the door, so your back is to it now, and you slide down, wrapping your arms around your knees with a shuddering sigh.

That was the last time you saw John before he just disappeared.


	4. Jigsaw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You didn't expect that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for implied panic attack
> 
> also SORRY for not uploading for so long... a lot of stuff happened recently so @_@

You just want to sleep.

It’s the middle of the night, you’ve gotten past your drug riddled coma and doctors are pestering you to no end. After abruptly waking up, a nurse unfortunately catches you out of your slumber, and fetches 3 of the doctors that are now here. You aren’t in the mood to be interviewed, and you aren’t really paying attention either. You sputter out half-assed answers, some sort of poem-riddle, and answers that seem to raise more questions (you don’t answer those either, really).

Clearly not wanting to put up with this much further, one chirps a “How about you get some rest, and we can continue tomorrow?” followed by a cheap, brittle smile. It’s probably clear in your expression that they overdone it, eyebrow arched and a questionable gaze, and they’re already half pivoted towards the door.

“Uh, okay sure.” And that’s what makes them set out like a pack of bumbling idiots, dispersing messily into the hall. With that, you’re alone. You can’t help but feel a mix of offended and relieved, both for the fact they wanted to get their asses into gear and sprint out. In a way, you’d thank them, but then throw them in a ditch, then thank them again, and go about your own business. Counterproductive? yeah, but that’s how you feel, nothing can truly help that.

That aside, you need to focus on why you’re in this medical institution. You think and unsurprisingly when you do, a throb knocks against your skull. Ok, the sputter of your mental engine sounds, and maybe you should take a break. Infact, the sleep you’ve mentioned earlier sounds very inviting. You lie down, carefully tuck your arms under the sheets, without disturbing the many tubes and lines connected to you, and you close your eyes.

You don’t last for five minutes. You aren’t entirely up for the blame through, the conditions in your room are considered a bit crude for someone who just overdosed on heroin. It’s abnormally cold, the bedside lamp is bright enough that if you look straight into it, no doubt you’ll go blind, and the sheets are stiffer than the nurses that try to tend to you. A lost cause, and you might as well stake out until your dad arrives. He’ll probably swing in, pay the bills, and the two of you will swing right into rehab, you’ll get out, and bam, you’ll be alright in no time. In fact, isn’t he supposed to be here right now or something?

They called him right? So I mean the traffic couldn’t be too bad, if not slow. So you wait, he’s not going to take much longer. Hours pass, hours of trying to bug the nurses to get you some water, the doctors trying to pry more questions out of you, and even some more thinking(which ultimately, fails) and still, nothing. Weird.

With the wee little button behind your bed, you turn yourself around as much as you can without having the needles go flying across the room, and a there goes a small beep. A nurse runs in, thankfully not the ones from before.

“Hello John.” She’s sweet enough.

“Hey, uhm, haven’t you called my dad yet?” She looks completely blank for a moment, and it stays like that. She’s thinking, ok, maybe they forgot. Her lips part to say something, and then you can catch the panic in her expression begin to show. It’s been about a minute and she’s looking like she’s a guilty child who just stole from the cookie jar. Pleading guilty or not, you don’t make any conclusions, all you do is perk an eyebrow up in question, and suggest:

“Look if you forgot or something, you can just-”

“No.” She sputters. You stare, she breaks a sweat. 

“No… what?” The light sheen against her skin is beginning to stir some concern, and her tone isn’t helping either. What is this, law and order? 

“Look,” You’re looking, ok, next step, “Let me just fetch your doctor.”

“Wait,” You hold a hand up, halting the rushed figure, “Explain what’s going on.”

“The doctor will explain-”

“Are you hiding something from me?” Your voice startles her and even yourself.

She meets your gaze, she looks away, she stands there for a moment, and then she dismisses herself without another word. You don’t bother holding her up for longer, but you wish you did.

So the doctor arrives and he tells you the truth.

“John Egbert?” The dimness in his voice throws you off.

“Yes?”

“Do you remember anything prior to this all?”

“Somewhat, but what does that have to do with anything?”

He hesitates to speak up, and you don’t dare take your eyes off him, even for a second.

“John.”

“Yes?”

“He passed away 5 years ago.”

“Oh.”

It takes you a moment for you to remember, that and everything else.

When you do, the line snaps.

And everything falls apart.

 

_____

 

_“Breathe in, breathe out.” One softly puts, but your pulse is pounding in your ears and you just can’t seem to do that._


	5. notice of hiatus

i will have to postpone any future updates for the following reasons:

1\. i have boarding school and they do not allow any electronics

2\. i'm going through multiple, very complicated things right now and its hard to keep track of everything

3\. as eager as i am to finish this, it will take a while per chapter to upload anyways, so

im sorry to everyone i will try to get off my hiatus as soon as possible


	6. NOTICE OF REDO

i am completely redoing this piece, and it will go by the name "house of cards", you should expect the first chapter to come out soon and this piece itself will be abandoned


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